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Thy hand is cold as mine,
As lustreless thine eye;
Thy bosom gives no sign
That it could ever sigh
Well, well! adieu's soon spoken,
'Tis but a parting phrase,
Yet said, I fear, heart-broken
We'll live our after days!
Thine eye no tear will shed;
Mine is as proudly dry;
But many an aching head
Is ours before we die!
From pride we both can borrow—
To part we both may dare—
But the heart-break of to-morrow,
Nor you nor I can bear!
